


nebulae

by CallicoKitten



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Casual Sex, Force Sex (Star Wars), Forced Pregnancy, Forced Relationship, M/M, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Sort Of, Trans Armitage Hux, Trans Male Character, injuries, poe to the rescue, so make note y'all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-04-04 05:52:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14013582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallicoKitten/pseuds/CallicoKitten
Summary: “You are carrying my child, General,” Ren says, voice low.Hux closes his eyes. For a moment, he allows himself to feel the full horror of that statement. The full horror of all it implies.-Upon his ascension, Supreme Leader Ren finds an interesting method of controlling General Hux





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so, uh, this is that dark fic i was talking about on tumblr. still not sure sure whether i'm going to keep this going bc im so conflicted about it? but this is a definite dont like, don't read situation my friends
> 
> anyway, some notes:
> 
> 1\. hux is trans in this but he is at no point misgendered.   
> 2\. there's uh, a lot of rape  
> 3\. the force probably doesn't work like this  
> 4\. hux is a bad person but like no one deserves this really?   
> 5\. ren is maybe a marginally worse person in this fic than he really is and is thus the ~woooooorst~
> 
> grab a torch i guess?

It was pointless to come here. After Starkiller, after the Supremacy, after Crait.

He knew that, knew that well, and yet here he is. Sat alone on threadbare sheets in some anonymous board-house on a nameless outer-rim moon. He is dressed in clothes bought specifically for this purpose, ragged, filthy, ill-fitting, he gave a false name at the front and at several other places besides just in case.

He has followed Dameron’s overly complicated signalling system methodically, almost as second nature but he knows Dameron will not be coming. Probably, he will think Hux is taunting him, calling to him after wiping out the New Republic, the majority of the Resistance.

Probably, that is what Hux should have done.              

But no, there is no point in lying to himself. He cannot even pretend he is here in the hopes of gathering information, he has not had anything from Dameron for months. Years, even. They did away with that pretence fairly early on. Stopped meeting in bars and cantinas and graduated to rooms.

Hux closes his eyes as he thinks of it. Of Dameron’s smirk, of his gentle hands.

He sighs.

They should have put a stop to this years ago. After that first time even, on Coruscant when Dameron was still with the New Republic Defence Corps and Hux was just a lieutenant. Or after Dameron joined the Resistance and made them enemies. They should have put a stop to this the moment it stopped being about teasing out information.

 _He_ should have put a stop to this.

He digs the heel of his palm into his eyes before he opens them. The pounding is beginning again behind his eyes, stems from sleep deprivation and a diet of mostly caf. It cannot be helped, though. Since the _Supremacy_ , since Supreme Leader Ren’s assent, he has had scarcely enough time to breathe let alone sleep, eat.

He pulls out a bottle of stims and taps out two to chew on his way back to the shuttle.

-

He is greeted in the hangar by Commander Lisolt, left in charge in his stead. She inclines her head respectfully, keeps her posture straight but Hux knows by the way she is clutching – not simply holding – her datapad to her chest, that something is wrong.

“Welcome back, General,” she greets.

“Commander,” he nods back. “I trust everything has remained operational in my absence.”

Lisolt inclines her head again. “The repairs to the _Supremacy_ are progressing as intended and there have been several potential locations for Starkiller II located and scouted with reports being compiled as we speak. As for the status of the newer weapon, I remain only appraised of the barest details and can only say there have been no reports of major delays. The Supreme Leader remains aboard.”

She trails off, faltering.

Hux sighs. If he had the energy he would scold her, instead he barks, “Out with it, Commander.”

She closes her eyes briefly. “There was an incident aboard the _Augury_ , sir.”

Hux frowns. The _Augury_ was a training ship, sister of the _Absolution_ where the first half of the stormtrooper training programme took place. The _Augury_ had been where the second half took place but as their power increased there was increased demand for troopers. They had had an influx of recruits and begun housing younger troopers there too. It had not been a singularly popular decision amongst the upper ranks but Hux had argued in favour of it, pointing out that the younger recruits might look to the older trainees as a source of inspiration. If something has happened, it will be easy for Ren to pin this on him.

“Go on.”

“An entire unit of new recruits had to be liquidated, sir,” Lisolt says.

Hux sighs, closes his eyes. It has only been a few hours since his last stim but already his headache is returning.

“There were a few among the unit from Canto Bight, sir, taken in lieu of payment from a former supporter. It appears one was strong with the force and he – Well, he managed to lead the majority of his unit in a rebellion against the Order. The child was killed swiftly, of course and after some testing it was determined the damage to the entire batch was too great for the training to take hold.”

Hux exhales. “How many did we lose?”

“Seventy-six, sir,” Lisolt says gravely.

“Excellent,” Hux mutters. “And I presume the Supreme Leader is keen to discuss this with me?”

Lisolt nods. “He requested your presence as soon as you had been briefed, sir.”

Hux nods. “Very well, Commander. Dismissed.” He turns to go, marching off towards the Officer’s Deck but Lisolt hurries after him.

“There is something further, General,” she says, keeping pace with him. “There will be a summit of the Order’s leaders next cycle hosted here, sir, to discuss what should be done about the _Augury_.”

“ _Wonderful_ ,” Hux mutters as they exit the hangar. “Commander Lisolt, you have the conn until I return.”

Lisolt stops while Hux walks on. He does not turn to watch her but he assumes she salutes smartly and turns in the other direction, back towards the bridge.

He makes it a few steps further before he feels the familiar pressure about his throat. Not constricting, not yet, Ren has learnt at long last to be tactful. In this, at least.

Hux doesn’t come to a halt. He keeps walking.

_You have returned, General. And so soon._

Ren’s voice is a purr in the back of his mind. His grasp on Hux’s throat is gentle, almost playful. Out of all Ren has done to him of late, it is this faux-gentleness that has Hux’s skin crawling, his stomach churning with nausea.

 _Miss me already, Ren?_ He thinks back savagely.

Ren does not rise to the bait. Not yet, anyway. Instead he laughs. It rattles around inside Hux’s skull.

_Still so arrogant, General. So **disobedient.**_

There is another touch now. Lower, between his thighs.

 _You will learn though,_ Ren says softly. _I will make sure of it._

There is nothing gentle about the way Ren thrusts into Hux’s mind, pulls his memories out and lays them bare. Hux falters, closes his eyes.

 _Oh,_ Ren croons. _Your Resistance pilot did not turn up. Such a shame._

Hux grits his teeth. Ren has always been jealous of Dameron. Had once tried to use as leverage with Snoke. Hux had laughed at him in the corridor outside Snoke’s audience chamber, had asked whether he truly thought he knew something the Supreme Leader didn’t, whether Snoke would be pleased to know how little his apprentice thought of him. Ren had thrown him against the wall and for a split second, Hux had thought he might snap his neck but no, instead Ren had sneered, an ugly, twisted thing and hissed, “So you’re happy to whore yourself for the Order, are you? Good to know, General.”

He had stepped away then, left Hux to crumple to the floor inelegantly.

Now, Hux does not crumple. He stays standing through the dizzying rush of Ren pulling back from his mind, through the waves of nausea that follow.

_Jealousy has never been your colour, Ren._

Ren laughs again, darker this time. It curls through the back of Hux’s mind, makes him think of some dark, tendrilled beast coiling itself about every inch of his body. He has just enough time to make it to the private turbolift to the Officer’s Deck before Ren throws him against the wall, forces his thighs apart.

_I wonder if you would still be so proud if I did this to you in front of your men?_

Ren’s touch is becoming more forceful. Hux grits his teeth as his body starts to respond of its own accord.

The first time they had done this had been years ago, before Starkiller’s completion. Ren had not been stationed on the Finalizer long yet Hux had already been at breaking point. It had been in that same corridor, the long empty one that stretched between Snoke’s audience chamber and the rest of the ship and Hux had known that _something_ would have to give or he would not be able to prevent himself from doing away with the then Supreme Leader’s apprentice.

Something _had_ given though.

At that moment when Hux had screamed himself hoarse, had been twitching, _aching_ for his blaster, Ren had pressed him against the wall front-first, had pressed in turn up against him, chest to back, had rolled his hips so Hux could feel how hard Ren was. And _oh_ , Hux had realised he _wanted_.

Ren had entered him roughly that day, had not remarked on Hux’s anatomy, had probably already known. It was hardly a _secret_ , after all.

It had been welcome that day though. This, and everything that had come before it, since the Supremacy, since Crait, since the balance of power between them had been turned on its head, is not.

_If I took you like this on the bridge? During a meeting? When you are delivering a speech to the troops?_

Ren’s voice is rough at the edges, ragged with lust. Ghost-fingers curl into him and Hux can’t hold back the moan that escapes him as he comes.

Ren withdraws, steps back as Hux sags against the turbolift wall.

 _Clean yourself up before you present yourself to me,_ Ren says and then he’s gone.

Hux allows himself a moment to press his forehead against the wall, to breath deeply. Then, he stands, straightens out his uniform, brushes back the strands of hair that have come loose and sets the turbolift to start.

-

He showers before he sees Ren. Redresses himself in a clean uniform, laces his boots, slicks back his hair uniformly. It does not matter that Ren will leave him in disarray, will probably leave him bruised and bloody for the _Augury_ , for Dameron. Since Crait, since what came after, Ren has been sparing with the violence. He has had no qualms about taking Hux to bed against his will but he has not thrown him into walls, broken bones with a mere flick of his wrist.

The violence has always been there, though. An ever present threat in the curl of Ren’s hand at his throat, in the lightsabre he sometimes presses unsheathed below Hux’s chin.

He feels another wave of dizziness as he approaches the door, the edges of a headache. He taps out another stim to swallow, rattles the bottle unhappily. It’s almost empty. It’ll mean another trip to medbay for a top up. He asks his droid to remind him next cycle and takes a deep breath.

He sets a swift pace to Ren’s quarters, the Command Deck as they have been asked to call it. Ren awaits him in the audience chamber, hands folded neatly behind his back.

“Supreme Leader,” Hux greets, tries to keep the disgust from his voice.

Ren grips him about the throat with the Force. “Try that again without the attitude, General.”

Hux wheezes when he is released. _“Supreme Leader,_ ” he says, smoother.

Ren smirks, his arms falling back to his sides. “Better. I trust you have been informed of the occurrence on the _Augury_?”

Hux inclines his head, “I have, Supreme Leader. If I had been informed sooner of the difficulties perhaps – ”

Ren sighs, bored evidently. With a flick of his wrist Hux finds himself being flung hard against the wall, he hears a crunch as his head jerks back, connects with the solid metal and everything slides out of focus for a minute. His vision goes white and then dark, Ren’s voice, Ren’s footsteps appear muffled, as though from a great distance.

“Get up, General,” Ren says.

Hux does not remember hitting the ground. When he tries to stand though, his head spins, his arms will not obey. Ren tuts, lifts him up and bares him aloft. “I am getting impatient, General,” he drawls. “We are so close to our goals, we cannot afford such an obvious flaw in our system now. Not one so essential.”

Hux’s thoughts feel slow, sluggish. “Yes, Supreme Leader,” he manages, the words slurred together.

“The programme was yours,” Ren says. “And before that, your father’s. It was supposed to be flawless but under your command we have had not one but two acts of rebellion from the troopers.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

Ren draws him in close so that they are at eye-level. He’s enjoying this, it’s plain on his face, in the dark of his eyes. “I would be within my right to have you executed for your failures, General. Do you not agree? And that is leaving out the attempted _coup_ , of course.”

Hux swallows. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

Ren smiles. “Good. Do not forget then, that you are only alive through my goodwill.”

He sets Hux down almost gently. Hux sways but stays standing.

“Now, by tomorrow you will have a satisfactory explanation for the issues in the training programme along with a means of rectifying it to present to the leaders.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

Ren smiles again, reaches up to cup one of Hux’s cheeks. He brushes a thumb across Hux’s mouth and Hux closes his eyes to will back the shudder of revulsion that threatens to curl through him. His mouth tastes coppery.

“You will join me in bed tonight, General,” Ren says, voice low.

Hux opens his eyes, hopes Ren can feel the hatred, the anger in his gaze. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“ _Good,_ ” Ren says. “Dismissed.”

-

Sometimes when Ren fucks him, he clamps one of his hands to Hux’s temple, draws memories of Dameron to the surface. The effect is dizzying. Hux knows that it is Ren above him, pressed against him, pressed inside him but Dameron is layered atop him; Dameron is smirking up at him from between his thighs, spreading him open, pressing his tongue inside – Dameron his leaning into him that first night, the scent of whiskey heavy on his breath as Hux strokes him off in the dingy cantina they met in.

Ren growls, bites down on Hux’s shoulder as he spills out deep inside.

Hux lies still against the covers, eyes shut tight. His head is pounding despite the stims he’s swallowed steadily throughout the day. When he opens his eyes, his vision swims, nausea chokes him, his thoughts slip through his fingers like sand. He likely has a concussion from his earlier meeting with Ren.

He keeps his eyes closed as Ren pulls out of him, shifts off of him. Thinks, _if he tries to kiss me, I’ll throw up in his mouth._ Ren doesn’t though, only sets a hand lightly on Hux’s hip. “Have you prepared something for tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Hux says, without rolling to face him.

“Good,” Ren says. “It had better be sufficient.”

-

When Hux awakes next cycle, Ren’s bed is empty and he hardly has time to make it to Ren’s bathroom before he finds himself retching up the meagre contents of his stomach. He rinses his mouth out with cold water and sits for a moment on the floor, head pressed to the cool tile.

His head feels like it is being wrenched in two.

He checks the time on his commlink. 0700. The leaders are scheduled for arrival at 1300. More than enough time to make it back to his rooms and stuff himself with stims and painkillers for the meeting.

It is easy enough to travel unseen from Ren’s quarters to his own, less easy to do so without retching. He makes it though, commands his droid to prepare a fresh pot of caf and swallows down the last of his stims and a few painkillers before stepping into the shower.

When he has emerged and redressed he sips his caf, attempts to read the night cycle’s briefings but finds the strain too great on his eyes. His droid reads them aloud instead while Hux sits, hands steepled before his face. There have been no great calamities while he slept. Ren has left the Finalizer and has given no explanation or expected return time. There is that small mercy then, at least.

He hails Commander Lisolt, asks that she be the one to greet the other Generals and Admirals, that she show them to the grand meeting room on the Officer’s Deck while he looks over the reports from the _Augury_ once more. Lisolt is thrilled, does not ask why Hux would forgo such an important task. He asks that she hail him when all expected guests have arrived.

Once she has signed off, he closes his eyes, presses his forehead to the cool of his desk.

Perhaps he should go to medbay but it is already approach 1230. He hardly has the time. This is more important.

He takes another few painkillers before Lisolt comms to let him know they are all ready and waiting. He checks himself once over before he leaves. He looks a little pale, certainly, a little drawn. There are dark circles beneath his eyes but he cannot remember a time when they have not been present. His uniform is immaculate, his hair neat. The stims and the caf have done away with the drowsiness for now at least and the painkillers are muffling the pounding in his head.

If he is clever, he can make this quick.

-

Lisolt meets him in the Officer’s Mess, salutes him smartly. “General, all of our guests have arrived and await your presence,” she says.

Hux nods to her. “Thank you, Commander.”

“You should be informed though, sir, that Grand Admiral Sloane has arrived as part of the delegation although she was not expected.”

Hux sighs, glances away from her. Sloane will see right through whatever act he puts on. When he looks back, Lisolt is frowning at him, looking alarmingly concerned.

“Is there something else, Commander?” he says, tersely.

She jerks at that, seems to snap out of some trance and inclines her head hurriedly. “No, sir.”

“Good. You have the conn until I return. Dismissed, Commander.”

She inclines her head once more and leaves. Hux has to take a few deep breathes before continuing on to the meeting room. He finds Sloane outside it, leant against the wall casually with her arms folded, chatting to General Gibson of the _Harbinger._ A loathsome little man, Gibson is spineless, under-handed. Beside Sloane, who still looks as impressive as she did when Hux first met her as a child on Jakku, he looks very drab indeed.

Sloane’s eyes meet his above Gibson’s shoulder and she straightens, smiles coolly at him. “Ah, General Hux, we were just discussing your absence at the hangar.” Her gaze rakes over him, missing nothing. Gibson turns too, smiling in a manner he clearly thinks charming.

“Apologies, Grand Admiral, General,” Hux says, inclining his head to each of them in turn. “But I returned to the _Finalizer_ late yesterday and thought a thorough understanding of the events aboard the _Augury_ would be of more use than pleasantries.”

Gibson snorts at that, claps him on the shoulder with one meaty hand. “Definitely his father’s child, isn’t he, Grand Admiral?”

Sloane’s smile is vague. “As you say, General. Shall we?”

“After you,” Hux says.

Sloane lets Gibson enter the room ahead of them, touches Hux’s arm gently when they are alone. “You look tired, Armitage,” she says.

Hux sighs at her. “It has been a _tiring_ few days, Grand Admiral.”

-

The meeting does not go well.

Hux can hardly keep his thoughts in order, finds himself stopping midsentence having lost his train of thought completely and barely half an hour in, his head is pounding to the point that he wants to retch again, that he wants nothing more than to press his forehead to the cool wood of the table and sleep.

He cannot though.

First, he must convince the Admirals and Generals gathered that what happened aboard the _Augury_ was a freak accident, not the second link in a slowly growing chain of failures. Then that the programme’s robustness remains intact, that the best solution would be to re-implement the slower training regime and meet the increased demand for soldiers through other means like recruitment.

Though some agree, there is uproar from others. Recruited men are not as loyal as stormtroopers, not as well trained. How can they be trusted to secure the Order’s future? To defend the Order’s beliefs?

 _You are looking for cannon-fodder,_ Hux wants to snap. _Recruited men die just as easily._ But he keeps his mouth shut, more out of the churning of his stomach than fear of causing offence.

Hells. He just wants this to be over with.

It is Sloane that suggests they compromise for now, that they implement the slower training programme for the younger troopers on the _Augury_ and stick with the faster one aboard the _Absolution_. Hux looks at her gratefully as she leads the room into an uneasy agreement.

She remains behind as Hux bids farewell to the others gathered there. When the room is empty but for them, he sinks back down into his chair and closes his eyes. “Thank you,” he says, quietly.

He hears Sloane sigh as she crosses the room. She sets a hand on her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have had to do that for you but you’re welcome, General.” Her thumb brushes the bottom of his neck. “I think you would benefit from a trip to the medbay.”

Hux closes his eyes and exhales slowly. “I have too much to do.”

Sloane snorts. “No one is indispensable, Armitage. Surely you’ve realised that by now. The Finalizer won’t miss you for a few hours but if you drop dead on the bridge things might start to go downhill.”

Hux looks up at her. “You’re being over dramatic.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Am I? That bruise behind your ear says _skull fracture_ , Armitage.” She reaches out, brushes the hair above his left ear gently. Her jaw is tight. She sighs. “I made you a promise once.”

Hux leans away from her. “You made me a promise because you were worried I would sic a group of feral orphans on you,” he snaps but he regrets it almost instantly and grimaces. “Grand Admiral – ”

“It’s fine, General. I won’t hold it against you,” she says, stepping away from him fluidly. She pauses before she steps out of the meeting room, fixes him with a steely glare. “And don’t make me make my suggestion about dropping by the medbay into an order, General. It won’t do your standing any favours, you know.”

When she’s gone, Hux lets himself tip forwards, press his pounding forehead to the cool of the wood table in front of him. He breathes deeply for a few moments. Things are getting harder to hold together, thoughts running through his fingers like the dry sands of Jakku.

Perhaps Sloane is right.

-

He calls ahead, makes sure the Finalizers Chief Medic is expecting him. Medic Alwyn is a brisk man, his bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired but he also knows well enough by now not to ask questions, to keep things on a need to know basis. Hux is shown to one of the private examination rooms by a droid when he arrives and Alwyn tuts, confirms Sloane’s diagnosis within a few seconds.

“I’ll have a medi-droid scan you to confirm,” he says, peering at the bruising on the side of Hux’s head. “Could be nasty. This will take more than a tube of bacta-gel to fix, General.”

Hux scowls at him, more for the way he tips Hux’s head back and forth than for the diagnosis. “Get on with it then,” he says, through gritted teeth.

Alwyn steps back, snaps his fingers at one of the droids lurking at the back of the room. “I’m going to run some blood tests too. You look pale.”

Hux stares at him. “Yes, might that be the skull fracture, I wonder?”

Alwyn stares back placidly. “Maybe. I’d like to be sure though.”

Hux huffs, lets himself slump forwards slightly.

“This will probably be easier for you if you lie down,” Alwyn says, placing a hand against Hux’s shoulder and pressing gently.

Hux lets himself be guided down, closes his eyes as the sudden shift makes his head feel like he’s being lurched into hyperspace on a speeder. It must show in his expression because Alwyn says, “I’m going to give you something for the pain and an anti-nausea drug as well. There’ll be a sharp pinch.”

He keeps his eyes closed thinks, if he’d just fucking _waited._ If he’d waited, if he’d planned.

“If he keeps this up,” Alwyn says, his voice low as the medi-droid scans him. “He will kill you, you know.”

“Would you like to raise that with him, or should I?” Hux asks.

He hears Alwyn sigh. “He’s instructed me to inform him whenever you admit yourself to medbay. I have to run all your treatments past him.”

Hux opens his eyes at that. He’s not overly surprised, Ren controls all other aspects of his life after all. Why should this be any different? “Should you be telling me that?” He asks.

Alwyn has his back to him, frowning at the medi-droid’s output screen. He shrugs one-shouldered in response to Hux’s question. “He gave me no specific instructions in that regard.” His wristcomm beeps and he glances down at it before turning back to Hux. “I’m going to have to put you under for a while.”

Hux thins his mouth. “And is that your own recommendation, Alwyn or are you under orders?”

Alwyn shrugs again but the corners of his mouth are downturned. “I’m afraid I’m under _very_ specific instructions in that regard, General.”

-

When he wakes, he finds he has been moved from the examination table to a bed. His clothes have been changed, his uniform shed in favour of a soft medical gown. His hair feels damp against his forehead.

Alwyn stands over him, another medi-droid at his side. “I had you put in a bacta tank for an hour or so, get the bulk of the healing underway. You were lucky. The fracture was relatively minor.”

“Palpatine himself must have blessed me,” Hux mutters. He sits up gingerly. “Am I being discharged?”

Alwyn nods, striding across the room to retrieve a number of bottles. “I’m prescribing you a painkiller as well as some vitamins.” He says, curtly, not pausing to meet Hux’s gaze.

“ _Vitamins_ ,” Hux repeats, curling his lip.

“It appears you’re malnourished,” Alwyn says, turning back towards him. “A diet of caf and stims is apparently missing a few of the key nutrients most of require to continue living.”

Hux scowls at him, snatching the bottles away as soon as they are offered. “Very well.”

“Oh, and the Supreme Leader has returned. He wants you to report to him in his private quarters as soon as you’re discharged.” Alwyn still isn’t looking at him, has his gaze fixed on the datapad in front of him. For a moment, there is annoyance rising in him at the medics rudeness but then his stomach bottoms out and he thinks _oh._ Ren has said something, has passed along some order, some missive that is making Alwyn feel uncomfortable.

He is being removed from command.

It is that. It _must_ be that. Ren has decided he is better suited to being his _pet_ full time or perhaps he intends to do away with Hux once and for all. Perhaps these pills are part of it, part of the pretence. He looks down at them and then looks back up, mouth suddenly very dry.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No, General.”

Hux pushes himself off the bed. “Look at me,” he commands.

Alwyn does so without hesitation, his dark gaze steady, his expression impassive. “No, General Hux, there is nothing I’m not telling you,” he says but he drops his gaze at the very end, looks back up to add, “Apologies.” And then he’s gone, sweeping out of the room, leaving Hux staring after him.

He briefly considers hacking into Alwyn’s comms or if that proved too risky, his own medical records in the hopes that something will be noted down but if Ren is already back he’ll know. He probably already knows Hux is considering it.

Hells.

-

Ren does not meet him in the audience chamber this time, waits instead in his living quarters. He is dressed rather casually, has forgone the black flowing robes he adopted as Supreme Leader for a loser, grey outfit meant for training.

“I understand the meeting did not go well,” he says, in a low drawl.

Hux braces himself to be thrown again but when the doesn’t immediately come he swallows and meets Ren’s gaze steadily. “An agreement was reached,” he says. “It has bought us time to develop a stronger argument for reinstating the old programme.”

“The old programme which you yourself suggested changes too?”

Hux tightens his jaw. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

Ren hums as he pads across the room towards him. “How humiliating for you.”

Hux doesn’t flinch as Ren reaches up to grasp his jaw. “We needed more soldiers. At the time, speeding up the training programme was the most obvious solution.”

“Be that as it may, it was a rash decision, General, and even more stupid of Snoke to permit it,” Ren says, his gaze on Hux’s mouth. “You cannot afford another mistake.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Hux drones.

Ren’s hand slides up to cup his cheek almost tenderly. “There are a number of other Generals and Admirals that are displeased with you, Hux. They ask why I have not yet punished you for your string of failures. What would you have me say to them?”

Hux licks his lips. “I would remind them that it was I that built Starkiller,” Hux says. “That it was I that gave the order to destroy the Hosnian system and led the development of the lightspeed tracking system. That I attained the rank of General at twenty-eight for good reason and that in all of my career there has only been one failure that can be directly attributed to me.”

Ren meets his gaze then and there is something different in the way he is looking at Hux. Something deep, primal, predatory. It makes Hux’s skin crawl, it makes him suppress a shudder. Everything instinct within him, every inch of his being, every atom, every molecule is _screaming_ at him to run, to flee, to never return but he does not. Instead he stays, he stands.

“ _Good_ ,” Ren purrs and he slides his hand up to press against Hux’s temple even as he dips his head to capture Hux’s mouth.

He draws the memory of the first time Hux and Dameron had exchanged anything beyond handjobs and rutting against one another in filthy cantina toilet stalls to the surface. Hux still self-conscious of his body, Dameron smiling at him sadly, telling him not to be, making him come three times with his mouth and fingers before he’d even entered him.

Hux arches into Ren, a world away, Dameron’s name on his lips.

When Ren is through with him he waits for Hux to redress before he says, “Tonight, you will return here to me, General, as you will every night from this point onward. You are only permitted to return to your own quarters when I am not aboard the _Finalizer_.”

There is no room for questioning in Ren’s tone, there would be no point arguing. It all but confirms it though: something has changed. Something has happened.

He raises a hand almost unconsciously to the thin scar behind his ear.

There are any number of things Ren could have asked Alwyn to do to him in the medbay, none of them pleasant. He lets his hand drop back to his side, resist the urge to curl it into a fist. There is a smirk playing across Ren’s mouth, he knows precisely what is transpiring in Hux’s thought, knows the paranoia growing in the back of his mind.

Hux swallows. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

-

It takes him a month to discover precisely what it is that Ren has done to him.

It begins when he feels a curl, a sensation in his stomach as he lies in Ren’s bed, willing sleep to come. His eyes snap open when he first feels it, cold fear beginning to prickle at the base of his spine but he soothes himself quickly. No. No. He has taken steps to prevent _that_. He has taken _measures_.

Later, the laughter will be bitter in his throat.

But he feels it more and more. As he attempts to sleep, as he wakes, as he goes about his duties. Ren keeps a careful eye on him each morning, ensures he swallows down the pills Alwyn has given him, a faint glint of amusement in his eyes. It is becoming harder to ignore but with the medbay under Ren’s control, there is little he can do.

He does not simply do nothing, however. He attempts as far as possible to goad Ren into admitting what he has had done, why it is so important to him that he control every inch of Hux’s day. It is not until the day Ren announces he will name General Danford of the _Absolution_ Grand Marshal, that Hux snaps.

Under Snoke, there was no Grand Marshal, Sloane was only allowed to keep the title of Grand Admiral because she already held it. Ren though has always intended to name a Marshal, a single General to oversee the Order’s military as a whole. Hux has been undertaking those duties in all but name since he was thirty, he and likely most everyone else had simply _assumed._ It wasn’t a universally popular idea to be sure but it made sense. Hux was capable, had made a name for himself and Ren currently resided aboard the _Finalizer_.

Still, Hux probably should have known Ren would not simply do as he was expected to. Should have known when Ren summoned the Generals to his audience chamber aboard Hux’s ship with mirth in his eyes that this would be an unmitigated disaster.

He holds his tongue as Ren names Danford Grand Marshal, keeps his eyes front in the stunned silence that follows to avoid the glances no doubt cut his way. He congratulates Danford with a tight jaw and a stiff handshake and Danford is not as smug about it as some of the other Generals would have been but he is evidently please, evidently thinks it is some sign he is more capable than Hux, more talented, has had a greater impact when it could not be further from the truth.

As the Generals are filtering out, Ren asks that Hux make the announcement to the fleet, introduce Danford as their Grand Marshal. As he speaks, he whispers in the back of Hux’s mind, _it is nothing personal, Hux. There are other tasks I have in mind for you in the coming months and you must agree that with your record as of late, it would look odd to promote you._

Following the announcement, he would like nothing more than to retreat to his quarters and stew but he already knows that is what is expected of him, would have known even if he had not heard two of the older Generals talking as they left, _I expect he’ll go off to sulk now, entitled brat that he is._

It takes every inch of Hux’s fortitude to remain calm until the end of his shift, to go about his day ignoring the alarmed looks from officers and cadets. As soon the cycle ends, he comms the hangar, “Has the Supreme Leader returned from the _Absolution_ yet?”

The reply comes instantly. “Not yet, sir.”

 _Excellent,_ Hux thinks, turning as he exits the bridge towards the medical bay.

-

Alwyn meets him once more in one of the private examination rooms, this time no droid accompanies him.

“I know you are keeping something from me under his orders,” Hux starts, tone clipped. Before he can proceed, however, Alwyn interrupts.

“Then you know I cannot tell you, sir, so if that will be all – ” He moves forwards, attempting to leave but Hux steps smartly into his path.

“As a General of the First Order I demand that you tell me, Doctor.”

Alwyn sighs. “You may be a General, sir but he is the Supreme Leader and his authority trumps yours.”

“Not when it concerns my _body_ it doesn’t,” Hux snaps and he says it so loudly, so severely that Alwyn jumps. “Now,” Hux says, taking a step towards him. “You are going to tell me what Ren had done to me and you are going to tell me now.”

Alwyn licks his lips, plainly terrified. “Sir,” he begins, haltingly but stops as the door behind them opens.

Hux knows without turning around it is Ren.

“It’s quite alright, Doctor. He would have found out eventually. You can tell him.”

Alwyn splutters.

Furious, Hux turns towards Ren. “Well?” he spits.

Ren is smirking at him. So smug. So fucking pleased with himself. He takes a step forwards, and then another.

 _Tell me you have given me some horrendous disease,_ Hux thinks. _Tell me there is some new biological agent you are testing within me. Nanobots. A new type of tracking technology. A means of bending someone to your will. Tell me, tell me._

“You are carrying my child, General,” Ren says, voice low.

Hux closes his eyes. For a moment, he allows himself to feel the full horror of that statement. The full horror of all it implies.

When he opens his eyes, he turns to Alwyn. “I want it gone,” he says, simply.

“No,” Ren says, from behind him.

Hux turns to him angrily. “You cannot simply – ”

“Actually,” Ren interrupts. “I think you’ll find I can.”

“No,” Hux insists. “ _No_. Bedding me and treating me like your personal lapdog is one thing. Breaking my _bones_ , is one thing. _This_ is something completely different. _This_ is something I will not allow. _Cannot_ allow.”

Ren sighs. “Are you finished?” He looks bored by this. Mildly annoyed. When Hux goes to argue, he flicks his wrist and Hux finds his mouth clamped shut, his throat too tight to form words. “I will say this only once, General: you will carry this child. My child. _Our_ child and it will be born healthy. Everyone in this medbay will see to that even if it must be, however regrettably, at the expense of your own health.”

He is closer now, close enough that he can place a possessive hand atop Hux’s flat stomach. “In time I hope you will see reason. You will see that this child is meant for great things and her birth will herald a new age for the galaxy. If you do not, however, I am prepared to go to any lengths to ensure her safety. I will keep you sedated for the remainder of the pregnancy if I must, General, do you understand?”

Hux’s mouth is only permitted to form three words. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything about this fic is such a bad idea i'm honestly astonished
> 
> im glad y'all are enjoying it

“Okay,” Poe says. “Okay. So, we know the First Order get the majority of their supplies from the Unknown Regions but there’s gotta be something they can’t get there, there’s gotta be something we can disrupt. Come _on_.”

He’s bent over a holo-map in the command room, the locations of the First Order fleet plotted out before them. Across from him Finn sighs, chin propped up by one hand as he studies the map closely. There are a few others with them – some old, some new – all looking tired, worn. It’s been a long year or so since Crait but they’re making headway, they’ve had more victories than losses as of late. They just need something big now. They need something to leave the Order hurting, to turn the tide.

Poe’s just having a little trouble figuring out what that is just now.

His commlink beeps, has been beeping for the past ten minutes.

“You planning on answering that?” Finn asks.

Poe waves a hand. “In a minute, we’ve almost got this. I know we have.”

They don’t almost have it. Not even close. Finn starts sighing at him eventually, keeps saying stuff like _I don’t know, Poe. That was a little about my station._ And Poe rubs his jaw because he’s mad with it, with this, because it’s so _close_ but so far. They know the First Order Destroyers have vast stores of supplies aboard but they can’t be infinite and it wouldn’t make sense for them to have to go all the way back to the Unknown Regions just to resupply.

After another ten minutes, BB8 rolls in and starts nudging Poe’s leg. _Answer your comm._

“In a minute, buddy,” he says, distracted. “They must have a way. Maybe they have supply ships coming back and forth? Small ones, not convoys.” He says to Finn. “But we would have picked something up by now.” He growls, tugs at his hair.

Finn exhales. “Look, Poe, I already told you, I don’t know. They probably just get most of their supplies from the planets they take over.”

“But there’s gotta be _something_ ,” Poe insists.

BB8 is being insistent too, bumping against his leg, bleeping incessantly.

“BB8, _one minute_.”

“Poe, I really think we need a new angle,” Finn says. “And I really think you should answer your comm.”

BB8 seems to agree because they jab Poe with something sharp.

“Gods. _Alright_ ,” Poe snaps.

It’s Connix.

“General Organa says she’ll have your X-Wing taken apart and thrown into a blackhole if you don’t come to the war room in the next few minutes.”

“That seems a little extreme,” Poe says.

Connix sighs. “She’s not kidding, Poe. Get over here.”

She signs off.

Poe huffs.

“Alright guys, we’ll have to pick this up later,” Poe says to the room. “You might have told me it was the General,” he says to BB8, as the room starts to empty out.

BB8 whirs in annoyance.

“They did say it was urgent,” Finn points out.

“Don’t you start,” Poe mutters.

-

Leia’s lips are thin when Poe arrives in the war room and she shoots him a withering look.

“If you want to keep your title, Commander, you might try and at least act like you’re deserving of it,” she says, tersely while Rey and Connix pretend to look politely away.

“Sorry, General,” Poe says. “It would be easier if urgent messages didn’t have the same tone, you know? I mean, for all I knew that message could have been – ”

“That’s enough, Commander,” Leia interrupts. “No one is in the mood to watch you attempt to be funny, especially since the matter _is_ urgent.”

Connix coughs.

Poe drops his gaze. “Sorry, General,” he says again.

“Better,” Leia says with a faint half smile. It vanishes quickly and she’s all business again. “Now, then. You’re here because earlier today I received a message from someone within the First Order.”

Poe and Rey exchange a look.

“Don’t worry,” Leia says calmly. “They haven’t found us. It was sent via Maz and she vouches for it’s validity.”

Poe looks to Connix who nods tightly, quirks an eyebrow that says _it’s real, I’ll play it to you afterwards even if Leia won’t._

“It’s from someone high ranking,” Leia goes on. “Someone I’ve had run ins with in the past.”

“And do you _trust_ this person?” Poe asks, because Leia’s making it pretty obvious she’s not going tell them who her contact is.

Leia smiles. “Not in the slightest.”

“Then why are we even talking about this?” Rey asks slowly.

“Because try as I might I just can’t see how it benefits the Order,” Leia says. Twisting her mouth, she raises her datapad and taps a few keys to bring a holo of the message up. “This is the transcript,” she says as Poe and Rey lean in to read it. “My contact wants us to provide shelter for someone who wants to defect. They say this person is a higher up so they’ll have some valuable intel. All they want in return from us is a promise of protection.”

Poe rubs his jaw. “Yeah, that’s not really much to go on. I mean how are we supposed to trust any of this? Do they think we’re just gonna send them our base coordinates and welcome them in with open arms? Not even the Order is that dumb.”

“They must know we wouldn’t do that,” Rey says quietly. “So, what are they trying to do? Plant a mole?”

Leia spreads her hands. “Like I said, I have no idea. But this contact isn’t the kind of person I would expect this from. I’m not sure if that lends credence or pushes it further in the opposite direction.”

“I’d say the latter,” Poe says.

“But why?” Rey asks. “They know we’re not stupid. If they’re not telling the truth, this just makes them look desperate.”

Poe looks at her, “But if they _are_ telling the truth why come to us?”

Rey shrugs. “It might be important though.”

Poe considers it a moment. There’s a chance, sure. Finn came from the Order, after all. There might be more like him, more who don’t want to kill anymore just for the sake of killing. “But you’re not actually thinking of going for this, are you?” He asks, looking up from the holo at Leia.

Leia sighs, frowning hard at the data-pad. “I don’t know. Connix has already scouted out a potential place to bring the defector if we choose to go down that route. If we wanted to, we would never even have to bring them to the base and if they weren’t useful there’s nothing specifically stopping us from…” she trails off at Rey’s sharp look.

Poe sighs. “So, when I asked if you were going for this the answer was actually yes, right? And you’ve already got it all planned out.”

“I have a _potential_ plan,” Leia answers, delicately. “But I value you your opinion, so.” She looks at the two of them in turn.

“I think it’s worth investigating, at least,” Rey says.

“I think there’s a ninety percent chance it’s going to blow up in our faces,” Poe mutters. He sighs. “But we’re hitting a brick wall otherwise. What’s this potential plan, then?”

Leia’s smile is sly. “You would take a small team to retrieve the defector. There’s a defunct rebellion base on an mid-rim planet called Naos. It’s the only structure on the planet, there’s one way in, one way out and the anti-space craft system new worked right.”

“Never worked as in never shot anything down or never worked as in shot _everything_ down?” Poe asks.

“The latter,” Leia says. “But it’s easy to disable so we should be able to get in and make sure we’re not followed.”

“This sounds too well plotted to be potential,” Poe says.

-

He takes Finn with him, only Finn. Figures Finn will probably be on his side if the defector turns out to be someone they know too well to offer shelter to and Poe just decides to shoot them. Leia will get over it. Probably.

They’re waiting on the docks of a small Order-run moon in a plain grey transport shuttle. They keep their caps down low as the Stormtroopers load crates into the back. Poe has a small data-pad resting on his knee, scanning every crate they load up. Most of them are stuffed with weapons, blasters, bombs. All of them have trackers in that’ll need to be disabled. Rose put something together for them in the meantime, an interferer that’ll make it look like the weapons are being taken on to their intended destination.

“There it is,” he says to Finn as a particularly large crate is loaded on. The heat signal is barely visible, Poe only notices it at all because he’s looking for it.

Finn inhales slowly. “So that’s the easy part over with. Now we’ve just gotta get out of here.”

They wait until they’re in hyperspace before shedding the Order caps and scrambling out of the cockpit and into the small storage space in the back. It takes a few minutes of shifting crates before they can even get to the big one.

“Who’d you think it is?” he asks Finn as they tap the code into open it up.

“No idea,” Finn says. “A captain? A scientist? One of the sickos behind the Stormtrooper training programme?”

The crate hisses as it opens and they find themselves staring at a sleek white medi-pod. There’s no clear pane, the interface on the side shows a steady heartbeat. Poe feels a little like a kid again, excited about opening a present, which is stupid considering the context. He looks up at Finn. “Ready?”

Finn sighs. “I guess.”

Poe taps in the access code and steps back as the pod opens up.

His heart sinks as soon as he sees the red hair.

Sinks further when he glances down at Hux’s swollen stomach.

“Oh, fuck,” Finn says. “Holy _shit._ ”

-

The last time he saw Hux was a while before the Hosnian System, even then he knew things were changing, knew this wouldn’t last much longer. He meets Finn’s eyes over the top of the medi-pod. Finn doesn’t know. Neither does Rey. Only Leia and Connix and Snap know. He never saw a point in telling any of their newer recruits. It was over by then. Should have been over long before that.

There’s a mask over his mouth and nose, keeping him unconscious. He doesn’t stir at all.

“Shit,” Finn says again. “I kind of just assumed they’d killed him.”

“I kind of _hoped_ ,” Poe says quietly. General Hux hasn’t been seen in a good few months. There’ve been no propaganda holos with his sneering face and smarmy words sent out, he’s been absent from their intelligence reports. Poe’s gaze drops back down to Hux’s stomach. There’s a brief fluttering of panic but no, it’s been too long, he thinks. _Thinks._

He shuffles round to the little

“Well,” Finn sighs. “I guess we can’t shoot him.”

Poe nods in agreement. Before he seals up the pod and goes back to the pilot’s seat, he transfers Hux’s medical records over to his data-pad and scans them as they fly. They were all written by Doctor Ferant Alwyn, Chief Medical Officer of the _Finalizer._ They make Poe feel vaguely sick.

He stops reading after: _Patient requested termination. Denied on orders of Supreme Leader. Recommending increased dosage of mood stabilisers due to patient distress._

Finn nudges him with his foot across the cockpit, quirks an eyebrow, “You okay?”

Poe shakes his head, rolls his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. It’s just – ”

“Yeah, I get it,” Finn says, making a sympathetic face. “The Order treats everyone disgustingly. Even their best and brightest.”

“Shit I’m sorry,” Poe says hurriedly because it’s easy to forget sometimes where Finn came from. He’s so steady. So bright.

Finn smiles. “It’s alright.”

It’s not but they’re almost at Naos. The ship bleeps as it readies to drop out of hyperspace.

“General Organa is going to _love_ this,” Finn says.

-

It’s a little dicey finding the base and landing, avoiding the ground-to-air missiles that automatically launch themselves while Leia and Rey shout at them over the comms but they make it. Just.

The base on Naos is almost dustier than the one on Crait, full of rust and sand that’s been blown in through every nook and cranny. It’s small, more of an outpost than a base, Poe didn’t even know it existed until a few days ago. They land in a mostly empty hangar and unload the medi-pod, drag it through to the room they’ll be using as a cell.

“Spoiler alert,” Poe calls as they push through the doors. “It’s General Hux.”

Everyone in the room turns with varying degrees of shock and disgust on their faces. Leia and Rey are there as well as Doctor Kalonia and a young medic called Weir. Of all of them, Kalonia looks the least surprised.

“ _What_?” Rey says, as they roll the pod into the centre of the room.

“I know,” Finn says. “I have no idea how anyone ever thought we’d offer him protection.”

“Is anyone going to apologise for almost shooting us out of the sky?” Poe asks, tapping in the code to open up the pod.

“No,” Leia says, dismissively. Poe makes an offended noise but Leia’s not paying attention. She’s stepped up to the pod, looks down at Hux with a complicated expression on her face. Kalonia and Weir have stepped closer too, Weir examining him and tapping industriously away on her datapad, Kalonia bending to examine the small monitor on the side.

Leia sighs. “We’ll be offering him protection because he’s carrying my grandchild.”

And that’s – that’s a lot to process.

Poe’s not the only one in the room staring at her open mouthed. “You – ” he manages. “You _knew_?”

Leia gives him a distinctly unimpressed look.

“No. She didn’t,” Rey says, she’s still looking down at Hux, a slight frown on her face. She looks up, not at Poe, at Leia. “I feel it too.”

Leia’s fingers are curled around the edge of the pod. She lets out a soft exhale, something that might be called relief.

Finn looks between them. “So… the Force?”

Rey nods, jaw tight.

There’s something hard forming in Poe’s chest. “Okay, but that doesn’t necessarily mean – ”

Kalonia interrupts, “It would make sense. From what little we know about the Force, it tends to run in families.” She looks up at Leia. “Do you feel it as strongly as you did with your son?”

Leia nods, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards briefly. “She’s as strong as he was. Stronger, maybe.”

Poe folds his arms. “So if he’s really carrying the Supreme Leader’s kid and if the kids going to be as strong as you think, why would anyone send him to us?”

“Maybe they realised how batshit Kylo Ren is and didn’t want to give him anymore power,” Finn suggests.

In turn, Leia shrugs. “Hopefully our new guest can shed more light on that when he wakes.” She turns to Kalonia, looking expectant.

Kalonia is frowning at her data-pad, hooked up to the pod. “We’ll have to bring him out of it slowly,” she says. “His records say he’s been kept sedated for the last few months for the protection of the child under the orders of the Supreme Leader.”

Poe takes a deep steadying breath. “I’m going to check Rose’s scrambler is still working on those weapons,” he says.

-

Poe’s not an idiot. He always knew at some point he’d have to reconcile the two Hux’s he has in his mind. The First Order General. The man he met years ago in some shitty cantina before either of them were anyone. He kind of figured it would be after everything, though. When the war was over and Hux was long dead.

This was not exactly part of the plan.

He knows it’s Leia who comes to find him by the way she raps sharply on the side of the shuttle rather than calling out to him. He sets the gun he’s been fiddling with a sigh before backing out of the shuttle and turning to face her.

“It’s still working,” Poe tells her flatly. “Rose really knows her stuff.”

“I know,” Leia says, she’s smiling at him kindly but he knows why she’s here. What she’s about to say. “Doctor Kalonia thinks that given the amount of time General Hux has been kept sedated, it might be less distressing if there was a familiar face around when he woke up.”

Poe sighs. “ _Did_ she.”

Leia tilts her head. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do,” she says. “You know that, Poe.”

Poe sighs again. “ _Yes._ ” He shakes his head. He doesn’t really know how he feels about this. Doesn’t really know how he’s _supposed_ to feel about this. He looks at Leia again. There’s something different in her eyes, something that burns a little brighter. “You really think that’s your grandkid in there, don’t you?”

“I know it is,” Leia answers firmly.

Poe passes a hand over his eyes. “He might not be pleased to see me, you know. And he _definitely_ won’t be happy to be here.”

Leia sets a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it gently.

-

It’s a few hours before Hux regains anything resembling consciousness. Kalonia has shifted him out of the pod and onto a medical cot, hooked him up to some fluids and taken off the mask. He’s on his back now, not curled on his side like he was in the pod. The swell of his stomach is even more pronounced now.

Poe is having a hard time dealing with that.

He hasn’t seen Finn or Rey since Leia came to find him. He doesn’t know what explanation they’ve been given for why he’s been chosen above all of them. Weir is there too, dozing in the corner, Kalonia only a loud shout away.

Poe takes a deep breath when Hux starts to shift, eyes darting back and forth behind his eyelids. Braces himself for – For whatever is about to happen.

Hux blinks awake slowly, groggily. His hand comes up to rub at his eyes. “What – ” he mumbles, gazing around him. His eyes narrow when they land on Poe. “Dameron?” he snaps, voice weak. “What?”

He’s starting to panic, Poe can see it rising in his eyes. He shifts on the cot but Kalonia’s told him his muscles will be weak from disuse, he won’t be going anywhere in a hurry. Poe leans forwards, reaches out before thinking better of it. “Hugs, calm down.”

“Where am I?” Hux demands. “What have you done?”

“I’ll explain if you calm down,” Poe says, trying very hard to keep his voice level. He puts a hand on Hux’s arm. Hux throws it off.

“Don’t _touch_ me!” He snaps. “Tell me where I am! Tell me – ” But he breaks of as he tries to lift himself and looks down. He pales instantly.

Poe feels the horror he sees in Hux’s eyes in his bones. He feels a wave of revulsion at the man who did this, a wave of pity for Hux and then revulsion all over again at that. This time when he puts out a hand Hux doesn’t immediately throw it off. Allows himself to be pressed back down onto the cot.

“Yeah,” Poe says, weakly. “We think you’ve been out for a while.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short update today. i'm not really going to stick with a consistent chapter lengths for this one.
> 
> i'm also going to be attempting camp nano next month or, you know, tomorrow, so this might be the last one for a while

“I want it gone,” he says to Dameron, as soon as he’s regained the power of speech. He can hardly process everything that’s happening but _that_ he knows for sure.

Dameron looks pained. “ _Hux_ – ” he starts.

He’s going to say something soft and gentling that Hux doesn’t want to hear so he reaches out and grabs Dameron’s wrist hard. “I want it _gone_ ,” he repeats. “Whatever else your Princess is planning on doing to me, you can grant me that.”

Dameron’s eyes are wide. “Hux, I don’t think – ”

Hux lets him go with a snarl of frustration. His skin is crawling. His head is spinning. How long has he been asleep? How long has Ren kept him like this? How –

He blinks, shakes his head.

None of this makes sense.

None of it.

It can’t be real.

“Ren,” he says and his voice is hoarse. “Ren, I know this is you. Get the hell out of my head.”

“ _Hux_ ,” Dameron says, again and his mouth works silently for a few moments.

Hux closes his eyes. This a new low, even for Ren. Before now, it’s always been steeped in reality, he’s always felt like he’s in two places at once, he’s always been able to feel Ren’s fingers pressed to his temple. He takes a breath, tells himself that when he opens his eyes again he’ll find himself back on the _Finalizer_ in the medbay. That’s the last thing he remembers. Waking up in the medbay, Alwyn grim-faced leant over him, Ren against the wall, stony and silent.

“Weir,” Dameron is saying, voice low and urgent. “Go and get Kalonia and the General.”

And Hux frowns, cracks an eye open.

He’s still in the room, Dameron sat by the bed, leant forwards worriedly.

“You’re still here,” Hux says slowly.

“Yes, I’m here!” Dameron says. There’s an edge of hysteria to his tone, his hands are curling and uncurling in his lap like he’s trying to resist the urge to reach out and grab Hux. “Where – Where do you think you are?”

Hux stares at him, tightens his jaw. Dameron’s concern feels real but that – _this_ can’t be real. It can’t. He can’t be here. “Ren,” he says, more uncertainly this time. “Stop this. Now.”

Dameron reaches out, holds onto his wrist. His grip is warm. It feels real. “Hux, whatever you think is happening right now, it isn’t. Kylo Ren isn’t doing this. This isn’t some trick. You’re here. This is real.”

But those words don’t make sense.

“Look, this is hard to explain,” Dameron goes on. “But we got a message from someone in the First Order saying they had someone they wanted us to protect, someone high up, in exchange for protecting them and – ”

Hux cuts him off with a laugh that sounds weak and forced even to his own ears. “You expect me to believe that?”

Dameron closes his eyes briefly. “Hux, I – ”

But there’s the sound of a door opening and Dameron lets go of his wrist. The thing within him shifts. Hux closes his eyes against it all and turns his head away.

When he opens his eyes, he’ll be on the _Finalizer_ again, he tells himself. When he opens his eyes, he’ll be on the _Finalizer._

-

“I don’t know,” he hears Dameron say. “He doesn’t even think he’s here, or that this is real. He thinks Kylo Ren is doing this. Making him see this, or something.”

Someone else, a woman, sighs. “Well, if his medical records are to be believed he’s been sedated for a little over four months. The confusion is to be expected. It’s something we’ll have to keep an eye on.”

 _Four months,_ Hux thinks, feeling sick and dizzy. **_Four_** _months._

The last thing he remembers is the medbay. Ren looming over him, eyes carefully blank, _I had hoped you would come around to my way of thinking by now, General._ He sounded disappointed. _Remember, I told you I would do whatever I had to to keep our child safe. Even from you._

Had Ren really gone through with it? Had Alwyn sedate him? Kept him tucked away somewhere secret, covered his absence with some poorly thought out lie?

“Could he really do that, though?” Dameron asks. “Kylo Ren, I mean. Could he really do that? Make someone think they were somewhere they weren’t?”

“The Force works differently for different people,” Someone else says. “It’s possible, though.”

“Fuck,” Dameron says. “That’s so – **_Fuck_**.”

“I’d have to agree with you there, Commander,” the second voice says. General Organa, he thinks. “This isn’t permanent, Kalonia?”

“I’d hope not,” says the first voice. She’s close to Hux. He assumes she’s a medic of some sort. “We’ll have to keep an eye on it. Keep talking to him, Dameron. If this is something more serious, we’ll need to know sooner rather than later.”

Organa hums in agreement but before she can add anything there’s the sound of a door opening and familiar male voice ringing through the room. “General, message from the base!”

Organa swears under her breath. “Yet another reason that time is of the essence, Commander,” she says. “We’ve still got a war to fight and I’m assuming we’ll have to move him soon. We can’t risk the Order finding him and given how strong that child he’s carrying is, I don’t think the Supreme Leader will be far away.”

_That **child.**_

Hux feels dizzy all over again, keeps his eyes closed until he’s sure only Dameron is still in the room.

Dameron doesn’t look surprised in the least when Hux opens his eyes. He’s standing a few feet from the cot, arms folded across his chest, jaw tight. “You need to tell me how to convince you this is real,” he says.

Hux exhales. He still can’t feel Ren pulling the strings but that doesn’t mean – If this is real, then – He looks down at the sheets but as he does so he can’t help but glimpse the curve of his stomach, holding that thing – that _child._ Ren’s child. He closes his eyes again, squeezes them shut tightly, _wills_ himself back to the Finalizer but it’s not working.

It’s not _working._

He hears Dameron cross the room, feels the dip in the mattress as Dameron sits down beside him.

Hux’s hands are balled on top of the sheets. Dameron reaches out and gently prises them apart. “Hey, hey,” he says. “Hugs, come on, there’s gotta be something.”

“He’s – ” Hux keeps his eyes closed. “ _You’re_ in my head. There’s nothing he – _you_ can say to convince me otherwise.”

Dameron sighs. “Alright, so something you wouldn’t know, right? Okay, how about that day you sent out our signal after Crait? I saw it, you know. Managed to get our receiver off D’Qar before you blew it out of the sky and despite all of that I still thought about going to meet you.”

His hands are still covering Hux’s.

Hux opens his eyes. “That’s a lie,” he says.

“It is,” Dameron confirms. “But if this was all some trick I was playing on you to keep you on side wouldn’t I keep that lie up? Keep you calm?”

“That would depend on your end goal,” Hux says quietly. He remembers Ren leaning over him a few nights before that last day in the medbay, brushing Hux’s hair back behind his ear, hissing when Hux flinched away, when he couldn’t hide the revulsion that shuddered through him. _You welcomed my touch once._

 _I tolerated it,_ Hux had hissed back and Ren had actually looked hurt.

_What more can I do? I have not punished you for your consistent string of failures. I let you see the man you would rather be with._

He had put a hand atop Hux’s stomach then. Hux had wanted to laugh.

 _You still resist,_ Ren had said, looking so honestly confused.

Hux sighs. “I don’t want this to be real,” he says, quietly. “I don’t want this. Any of it.”

“I know,” Dameron says. “And I’m sorry this has happened to you but it _is_ happening. You can’t just will it away.”

Hux slumps back against the pillows. He tips his head back, looks up at the ceiling. “Ren will be coming for me,” he says. “Or, for it. He thinks it’s going to change the galaxy. Win the war.”

“The child?” Dameron asks, after a beat.

Hux stiffens. Can’t think of it like that. “Yes,” he says flatly.

Dameron hums. “He – uh, didn’t happen to say which side it would win the war for, did he?”

Hux looks at him wearily.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's been a minute or you know, a month or two but look! i'm back!

 

“So, what do we know so far?” Leia asks when Poe finally, _finally_ steps out of their make-shift cell. Her arms are folded, her jaw tight. Whatever message Finn called her about can’t have been great. They’re all gathered in this small observation room off the cell looking varying degrees of uncomfortable.

Poe tries not to look at Finn or Rey as he speaks.

“Not much,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “He’s still pretty out of it but I think he’s coming around to thinking this is real and stuff. So, there’s that.”

Leia has turned to stare out at Hux through the huge window that takes up most of one window of the cell. The base used to be used to test prototypes, Rose told him excitedly before they left. This must have been the _observe-inevitable-explosions-from-a-safe-distance_ room.

“So, he’s calmer?” Leia asks, keeping her gaze fixed on Hux.

Poe shrugs tiredly. “A little.” At this point he’s pretty sure it’s more the exhaustion keeping Hux from exploding. That and the shock. _Stars,_ he can’t even _begin_ to imagine how he’d react if –

Leia turns to face him, folds her hands behind her back. “And what do you think the chances are of him actually cooperating with us, Commander?”

 _Zilch,_ Poe thinks flatly but he can’t bring himself to say that. There’s every chance Leia will decide keeping Hux conscious is too much of a risk, that the kid is all they really want out of this arrangement and Hux can be kept under until then. It’s probably what they _should_ do but Poe can’t. _Can’t._ And he’s pretty sure even though Finn and Rey haven’t uttered a word to him since Hux woke up, they’d be similarly resistant to that course of action. So instead he exhales heavily, spreads his hands.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I mean even – ” His eyes dart briefly to Finn, to Rey, he licks his lips, mouth suddenly dry. “Even before he was only willing to confirm things we already knew and even then, never anything big. Now he’s a General I don’t really think – ”

Leia’s mouth thins, she turns her head to look moodily back at Hux. “He’s said nothing about wanting to defect?”

Poe shakes his head. Surprisingly, Rey pipes up. “If he did, though, that might have been why they put him under. It wouldn’t look great for them if one of their star generals switched sides.”

Leia’s nod is thoughtful and she turns back to them, directs her next question at Kalonia. “Have we learnt anymore about the reasoning behind that?”

Kalonia looks distinctly unhappy. “Unfortunately, we have. The records seem to indicate the decision was made by the Supreme Leader following an attempted self-abortion.” Her voice is tight, strained. “There aren’t too many details but I gather from the treatments an overdose was involved.”

 _Idiot,_ Poe thinks. **_Idiot._** He closes his eyes. It shouldn’t be so hard to see him like this. To think of him like _that._ He’d always been so proud. So in control. This was – This was –

“I gather it wasn’t the _only_ attempt so for the protection of the child, the General was ordered to kept sedated until delivery. After that, the notes only concern the child’s development.”

 “Which is normal,” Weir adds. “A minor miracle considering all it’s been through.”

And there’s something in her tone that gets under Poe’s skin, has him turning to snap at her until Leia stops him with a sharp look. “Sorry,” he says. “It’s just – It was the first thing he said when he woke up. That he wanted it gone. Before anything else, he wanted – ” He breaks off.

Leia looks pained. “This is a difficult situation,” she says as Weir ducks her head, mumbles out an apology.

There’s silence then. Long, awkward. Poe scuffs his boots against the vinyl floors and tries not to think about whatever is going to be said next. Nothing nice, he thinks. Nothing that will make this all feel okay.

Eventually, Leia takes a breath and says, “We can at least attempt to look at this as an upside for us. If the General was made to carry this child to term against his will it may be easier to get him on our side. Even if we can’t turn him completely we might be able to get something useful out of him.”

“Other than the child,” Weir says quietly and Poe decides she’s really not in his top five of people. Leia shoots her an unreadable look before she continues.

“Regardless, we can’t keep him here indefinitely. If the Supreme Leader has gone to such lengths to keep the child alive it won’t be long until he finds us.”

“He said Ren thinks the kid’s important,” Poe says, remembering one of the few mostly lucid things Hux had said. He rubs at forehead tiredly. “That it’s going to win the war.”

“Did he – ” Finn starts but then stops to glance around the room and lower his voice a fraction. “Did he say which side for?”

Poe smiles faintly. “You know, I asked that too. He didn’t say.”

Finn deflates slightly.

Leia tilts her head but doesn’t comment, instead she looks back to Kalonia. “I don’t feel comfortable with leaving until we’re more certain of the situation.”

Kalonia shrugs, one-shouldered. “I can’t give you any guarantees on that I’m afraid, General. We’ll have to wait until the sedation has worn off fully – which could take days given how long he’s been under. We’ll need time to observe him, to assess his condition before making any firm calls.”

As if one cue, Hux whimpers. The small sound cuts echoes in the wide empty room, hits Poe in the chest with more force than he’s expecting. They all turn as one to peer out at Hux, curled to one side on the bed, shifting restlessly.

“He’s – Just having a nightmare, right?” Finn asks and there’s a note of uncertainty in his tone that has Poe frowning across at him. Finn’s looking at Rey. “Right?” he repeats.

“What else would it be?” Poe asks slowly, looking between them.

Rey says nothing but her jaw is tight, hands curled into fists at her side. She looks at Leia who looks similarly troubled.

“Finn’s asking whether Kylo Ren is contacting the General through the Force,” she says, quietly.

Poe’s blood turns to ice. “Is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” Leia admits, looking back out at Hux. “If a strong enough connection had been made then maybe – ”

“We should wake him up then,” Poe says, decisively and he darts out before anyone can stop him.

Hux makes another soft, unhappy noise as Poe reaches him, has both his hands curled and pressed into his temples. Poe grasps his hands, gently peels them away. “Hey,” he says, gently. “Hey, come on, Hux. Wake up, it’s a nightmare. It’s just a dream.”

Hux stiffens before his eyes open and he turns his face away, presses it into the pillow and groans. “Ren, stop this. _Please_ stop this. I know this is you. Just stop. _Stop._ ”

Poe squeezes Hux’s hands. “No, Hux, this isn’t Ren, remember? This isn’t Ren, this is real. I need you to remember.”

Hux turns his head back to fix Poe with an unhappy glare.

Poe breathes out. “Okay?” he asks. “Were you dreaming? It _was_ a dream, right? It wasn’t Ren um – ” He breaks off, having no idea how to phrase it.

Hux snorts, shakes his head. “I have no idea.” He brings a hand up to scrub at his face. “I don’t know that I could tell the difference anymore, to be honest. He kept asking where I was, though. Didn’t understand why I left.”

“And you didn’t say anything, right? About where you are?”

Hux looks at him. “Dameron, I don’t even know where I am and I’m hardly going to call him in to rescue me, am I?”

Poe nods and looks back over his shoulder at the others, giving them what he hopes comes across as a comforting look. A our-cover-hasn’t-been-blown-look. He finds Rey has followed him out, stands halfway across to the bed looking slightly uncertain, one arm folded tight across her chest. She tilts her head at Poe, the question evident.

He doesn’t know, Poe mouths, when he looks back, Hux is eyeing Rey warily. Poe turns back to face her. “You broke your link with him, right? How did you do it?”

“It was different for me,” Rey says slowly. “It went both ways, it wasn’t just…” her gaze skitters over Hux. “But maybe I could try…”

“No,” Hux says, immediately.

Rey looks offended for the briefest moment before she sets her jaw again and exhales. “I could never see his surroundings, though,” she says, after a moment. “And he couldn’t see where I was. Not until I wanted him to.”

And that should probably make him feel better but when Poe looks back to Hux he’s chewing on his bottom lip looking uncertain. “You think he’ll be able to trick you?” Poe asks.

Hux looks up at him slowly. “I’m still not sure _this_ isn’t a trick.”

-

“So, how are we doing, Commander?” Leia asks, the next time Poe steps out. They’re not in the obs room anymore and not all gathered together, Poe’s stepped out because Kalonia and Weir want to run some tests and have prescribed a shower and a good nights sleep to keep Poe from losing his mind. Leia looks like Poe feels. Drawn taught, exhausted.

Poe scrubs a hand across his face. “Not much progress. He’s okay, then he falls asleep and slips right back. Plus there’s the whole _is-Kylo-Ren-in-his-head-right-now_ thing which I honestly don’t feel qualified to deal with right now.”

Leia smiles faintly at that. “No,” she says softly. “No, I don’t suppose anyone is really.” She sighs, sets down her datapad. “Doctor Kalonia and I will have to return to the base tomorrow.”

“Shit,” Poe says, taking a step forwards. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Leia assures. “Nothing _yet_ , anyway. It appears though that the General’s disappearance has not gone unnoticed.”

“Kriff.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she says. “Of course, there’s been nothing official but our spies are reporting unusual movements. They’re looking for something and if it’s not the General then maybe we’ve got bigger concerns.”

“I’ll go with you,” Poe decides. “You might – ”

“No, Commander, I need you here,” Leia says with a smug smile that says she knew this was coming. “And it’s not a punishment, Dameron before you start complaining. That child is important to me, to us, so I need my best men on it.”

Poe smiles tiredly. “Awh, General. Can I get that in writing?”

“We’ll see,” Leia says. She glances away a moment, in the vague direction of the cell. “As for the General’s connection with Kylo Ren, Rey and I are working on it. At present, I think we’ll only have a problem if the General decides to cooperate with him so as long as you can keep him from doing that you should have a while at least.”

Poe mock-salutes. “And after that?”

Leia pats his cheek. “You’ve been here long enough to know not to ask questions like that, Commander.”

-

Leia points him in the direction of the barracks, tells him under no uncertain terms that he is to stay put for at least eight hours. It’s empty when he steps into the small bunk room and he realises he hasn’t seen Finn or Rey since – since well, _everything_.

That changes when he steps out of the shower-room, half dressed and towelling off his hair and Finn’s standing there. He doesn’t look accusatory or angry or upset or anything negative really, just kind of expectant, kind of hesitant.

“Shit,” Poe says quietly before Finn can speak. “Finn, I’m sorry. I should have told you. I meant to, at some point, but it’s – I mean it doesn’t come up much, does it and it’s kind of awkward to go hey, by the way, I know we’re at war and everything but I used to sleep with the opposing General kind of a lot and I hope that doesn’t make you think I’m compromised morally?”

Finn blinks like his brain is resetting or something. “Okay. Wow. I was actually going to ask whether you wanted something to eat but sure, we can talk about that if you want?”

Poe closes his eyes. “Oh.”

“I mean it’s fine, we should probably talk about this at some point but – ” Finn trails off and Poe opens his eyes, finds comfort in the fact that Finn is definitely finding this as awkward as he is. “Look, man, I don’t really care. That was in the past, right? It doesn’t change the fact that you’re a good guy, Poe and I know that. I know you are. You might have some _questionable_ taste but look, no judgement.”

Poe laughs. “Fuck you,” he says, affectionately.

Finn grins. “So do you want some food or not?”

“Some food would be great,” Poe says and Finn nods, is halfway to the door before he stops and turns back.

“Can I ask how it started though? Because I am just _so_ fascinated.”

Poe sits down heavily on one of the bunks.

“You weren’t like, a honey-trap or anything were you?”

Poe snorts. “Stars, Finn _, no._ He was just – a random hook up before either of us was anyone. It wasn’t meant to go as far as it did but – ”

Finn twists his mouth. “Is it going to be a problem for you?” he asks, after a moment and his tone is complicated, multi-layered.

Poe is half-thinking about that first night, about strutting into a cantina on a moon he doesn’t remember the name of if it even had one and seeing a shock of red hair on a man half-slouched over the bar. Seeing a smartly pressed black uniform, clean neatly trimmed finger nails, a permanent sneer. Thinking _now, **here’s** a challenge._ He’s half-thinking about sucking marks into the pale skin of Hux’s inner-thighs, the moans and hisses and gasps he let out.

He’s half-thinking about the hurt and terror and fury in Hux’s eyes when he first woke up.

“Honestly,” Poe says quietly. “I have no idea.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi, i'll be using the same general backstory for hux as my other fic

“It will have ten times the power of the Death Star,” Hux says proudly, “And will have the capability not only to destroy planets, Supreme Leader, but entire _systems_.”

Snoke tilts his head. A small, some would say insignificant, movement but Hux knows better. The Supreme Leader is impressed. Pleased. Hux holds his head higher, cannot help the smirk the twists his mouth. “We have already identified several suitable locations for it’s construction and ear marked the appropriate resources. There are more we will need, of course, but none will be too difficult to obtain.”

Snoke hums, considering a moment. “And how long do you estimate construction as taking, General?”

Hux is further bolstered, he knew the Supreme Leader would not turn this down, knew he would be eager. 

“With the appropriate labour resources, a prototype could be ready for testing in a matter months. The construction of the base itself, however, will take years but I assure you, Supreme Leader, it will be worth it.”

Snoke sits back in his throne. “Do you?” he asks and Hux sees the glint of amusement in his eyes but it does little to douse the swell of pride in his chest. _He sees us as playthings, Armitage,_ Rae Sloane had warned when he attained the rank of General. _He cares for nothing but his own goals, whatever they may be. He will not hesitate to use you and toss you aside when you have served your purpose._

 _And how is that different from anyone else in the Order?_ Hux had asked and Sloane had looked at him sadly. What did she know, anyway? Her war had been fought and lost long ago. Under her leadership the Empire may have survived, the Order had been formed but to what end? Skulking in the Unknown Regions, building ships from scraps and by cannibalising vessels that had once brought the galaxy to its knees? No. Things were different now. Better. If it meant siding with a callous monster to reclaim their rightful place, so be it.

“I do, Supreme Leader,” Hux confirms and Snoke rasps out a laugh.

“Very well. You shall have all the resources you require, General.”

Hux has to try very hard not to grin. “Thank you, Supreme Leader,” he says, bowing his head low.

The Supreme Leader snorts. “You are dismissed,” he says. “Send Lord Ren in when you leave. I will inform him he is to defer to you if you have need of your services.”

 _Oh, he will **love** that, _Hux thinks gleefully. “Thank you,” he repeats, before bowing once more and turning to leave.

“Oh, and General?” Snoke calls as he reaches the door.

“Supreme Leader?”

“Do not disappoint me. I understand you think yourself somewhat resilient and from conversations with your father it seems you are no stranger to fear and pain but trust me, if you fail in this I will make you remember what it felt to be five years old and terrified of everything and everyone around you.”

Hux would expect no less. “I will not disappoint you, Supreme Leader,” he promises, bowing again and striding out of the audience chamber.

Ren is skulking by the door wearing that infernal mask of his. “The Supreme Leader will see you now, my _Lord,_ ” Hux says, hoping the smug smile he wears lets Ren know he has a tough act to follow. It must work because Hux watches a ripple of anger run through the Knight, watches as he clenches his fists and stomps into the chamber.

Hux can’t help but wear his grin all the way back to his rooms where he pours himself a celebratory drink. Of course, Ren has to arrive and ruin it, removes his mask as he throws Hux’s door open using the Force. He’s scowling, fuming already and Hux wishes he knew precisely what it was the Supreme Leader said to him.

“ _You,_ ” Ren spits and Hux waits a moment to see if he’ll continue, smirking around the rim of his glass, but it becomes apparent that Ren is speechless.

Hux sets down his glass. “I take it your meeting with the Supreme Leader went well?”

He braces himself for the blow he knows is coming, closes his eyes as Ren pins him against the wall but even this can’t wipe the smile from his face.

“He said I am to defer to _you_ if you have need of me on your latest project,” Ren says, forming each word slowly, carefully, taking care to impress his fury into every syllable.

“Don’t worry,” Hux replies. “I’ll be sure not to task you with anything too _taxing_.”

There is something dark in Ren’s eyes, something heated. He takes a step forwards so that he is but a hair’s breadth from Hux. “And what exactly is your project?”

Something has shifted. It no longer feels as though they are antagonising each other. It’s more playful. It’s almost –

Hux blinks. “This isn’t how it happened.”

For a moment, Ren’s brow furrows in confusion but then he sighs, drops his gaze. The world ripples around them and suddenly Hux is no longer pinned against the wall. The room has shifted. He remembers this day now, how Ren had raised his fist and Hux had laughed at him, asked whether the Supreme Leader would take kindly to Ren beating him to a pulp now.

Hux swallows back his unease. This is something new, something Ren hasn’t done to him yet. It’s unsettling but he can’t let Ren see that so instead he sneers, “What exactly was aim here? Rewrite history? Make this into some sort of pathetic romance? Is that how desperate you are, Ren?”

Anger flits across Ren’s face but for the most part his expression is shuttered. “I am trying to make this easier for you,” he says. He takes a sudden step forwards and before Hux can move away he places his hand on Hux’s mercifully flat stomach. “For the both of us.”

Hux jerks away from him. Ren’s expression curls into a smirk. “We both know I can make you tell me where you are.”

“You’d have done it already if you could.”

Ren tilts his head at him, his expression impassive. “I’ll find who helped you defect.”

At that, Hux laughs. Laughs at the incredulity of it all. “ _Helped me defect_?” He repeats. “You kept me _unconscious_ for _months_! You think I had any say in this? You think I could _scheme_ from whatever corner of the medbay you had me shut away in?”

“So you don’t know either,” Ren says and he sounds slightly intrigued.

 _Wake up,_ someone says. Hux jumps and Ren frowns, “What is it?” he asks.

 _Wake up,_ the voice repeats, insistent.

“I – ” Hux says and then –

He opens his eyes to find the scavenger girl bent over him, brow furrowed. He snarls, “Get away from me!”

Something like annoyance flickers across the girl’s gaze but she does what he asks and steps back. “You were twitching and mumbling,” she says. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

“And I’m supposed to just _believe_ that?” Hux snaps.

She looks mildly offended then says evenly, “You can feel it when Kylo Ren is doing something to you, right?”

Hux narrows his eyes, sees where this going.

“So, you’d feel it if I did something too,” she finishes, arching a brow.

Hux doesn’t dignify that with a response and anyway, the thing inside his stomach decides to shift making him grimace unhappily. The girl steps forwards again, “Do I need to wake one of the medics?”

“No,” Hux grumbles. He shuffles around, trying to find a more comfortable position. If Ren is going to haunt his dreams he supposes he has to try and find a way of staying awake. He rubs at his eyes. His head still feels heavy, slow. He yawns.

The girl’s expression softens. “Dr Kalonia says it’ll still be a few more days before the sedatives are out of your system.”

Hux glares at her and she sighs, folds her arms. “Look, you don’t have to trust me - I certainly don’t trust you – but everyone would be a lot safer if you let me try and break Kylo Ren’s connection to you.”

“No,” Hux says flatly.

He can see it annoys her but she tries to hide it. “If you tell him where you are – ” she starts.

Hux rolls his eyes and interrupts, “ _Yes,_ because I’m likely to run back to the monster that did _this_ to me and then kept me sedated in a tube for several months.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” the girl says, closing her eyes briefly. “If he _makes_ you tell him…”

“He won’t,” Hux says. “Just because you fell all over yourself for his sob story and came running when he called doesn’t mean _I_ will. I’ve been dealing with him for a lot longer than you have, _scavenger_.”

She doesn’t even look angry anymore, just tired, slightly pitying. “Fine,” she says. “But if General Organa decides it’s too big a risk you might not get a say in it.”

Hux laughs bitterly. “I’m hearing that a lot lately.”

He rolls over.

-

He must fall asleep again because the next thing he knows he’s walking through a building he’s only seen on holos: the Imperial Palace on Coruscant. He walks down a corridor, can hear the distant roar of a crowd gathered outside. A small girl is holding his hand. She smiles up at him, a small silver crown atop her dark hair.

Hux sighs. “Are you trying to show me how idyllic our lives together could be, Ren?”

Ren appears to his left, falls into step beside them. “I’m trying to make you see how important she is. How important she will be. How important it is that we do this together.” He takes the child’s other hand.

“You’re showing me your pathetic fantasies,” Hux says. “Is this how you wish your own childhood had been? Mummy and Daddy always around to dote on you?”

“ _Careful,_ ” Ren snarls and suddenly the palace is gone and Hux is standing in the kitchens of the old Imperial Academy on Arkanis. There’s a sudden pain in his gut and he doubles over, straightens up to find his stomach as swollen as it is when he’s awake.

“Remember,” Ren says. “I can make things very, _very_ difficult for you, General.”

Hux meets his gaze. “Is this supposed to frighten me, Ren?”

Ren chuckles. “Oh, but it _does_ frighten you, Armitage. I can see it does.”

 _Wake up,_ someone says and it’s not the girl this time. _Dameron,_  Hux things and then _no!_ There’s a burst laughter from nowhere, the warm curl of alcohol, the scratch of sheets.

“I should have known,” Ren says, eyes bright, smile predatory.

_Hugs, come on, it’s just a dream._

“He came to your _rescue._ Your dashing pilot. Tell me, General, have you been a traitor this whole time or did you only turn after your failed rebellion? How will that play out amongst the troops, I wonder?”

_Wake up!_

Hux opens his eyes with a gasp, finds Dameron’s face inches from his own.

“Shit,” Dameron says, drawing back. “Shit, sorry. You were have a nightmare.”

“No,” Hux says and he reaches out, grabs Dameron’s sleeve unthinkingly to hold him still. “He knows,” he says. “He knows you’re with me. Knows the Rebels have me.”

Dameron’s eyes widen a fraction, he sets a hand on Hux’s shoulder to steady himself. “Does he know about the base? Does he know where we are?”

Hux closes his eyes, replays as much as he can but like all dreams it slides away even as he tries to grasp at it, slides through his fingers like sand. “I don’t think so,” he says, eventually.

“But he could find out?” Dameron asks. Then he narrows his eyes, looks Hux up and down. “How did he find out about us?”

“He heard your voice,” Hux says. “It – I don’t know – he’s in my head, Dameron. I heard your voice and there were, I don’t know, memories triggered.”

“Oh,” Dameron says flatly. “Well, that’s not great.”

Hux closes his eyes against the beginnings of a headache. “You should definitely be used to this by now,” he mutters.


End file.
